The Scent of Winter
by knicknack
Summary: Rin's scent was not, as one might expect,reminiscent of the fields of flowers she visited.


The Scent of Winter

Rin, Sesshomaru decided not long before her death, was a being for whom time slowed. This phenomenon could not be a conscious decision, of course. Rin was mortal. Rin was human. Rin was no more special than any other insignificant life form whose presence was a bane to the Earth and beings that inhabit it. And yet...the years before the human child wormed her way into the presence of the taiyoukai bled together and formed a vague picture of a life inconsequential. It was, he mused not long after her death, because with Rin, every day was an event. The centuries before her seemed but a blink compared to the paltry six years she was by his side. When had he started measuring time with her? Was time only Before Rin and After Rin? Before Rin was repetitive and meaningless. Every day was the same as the one that preceded it and the one that would follow. Faces and names and places were lost in the sands of time.......few were deemed important enough to hold a place in the memory of the Lord of the Western Lands. His father, his mother, Inuyasha, Naraku, Jaken........Rin. Rin. Rin. The only word necessary in describing After Rin. No day with her was forgotten. On this day Rin found a bird injured and they made camp for a fortnight until she deemed it healthy. On that day Rin wove a garland of flowers into a makeshift crown for Jaken, declaring him the 'Summer Queen.' And on the day after that, Rin drew her last breath.

"_Sesshomaru-Sama?" Her voice broke through a haze of almost-sleep. A pity. The mossy tree supporting his back was too inviting,_ _the day too warm and peaceful for him to open his eyes and respond to her, but open them he did. It would become one of the few regrets he had ever had in his long life._ " _Yes, Rin?"_

_ His voice, deep and slow, made her's seem so much younger. " May Rin excuse herself to bathe in the river?" He nodded. He would not allow Jaken to accompany her any longer, upon her own request. She was nearing fourteen summers and believed that her modesty took priority over her safety. Assured that the orange and black speck disappearing from his view was headed towards the nearest river, Sesshomaru allowed his heavy eyelids to fall and fell into sleep's warm embrace. _

It still stuck him as ironic that it would be Inuyasha who would pull him from the bliss of the unaware and into the rest of his life. Apparently the hanyou's female companions were stuck with the need to bathe in the river around the same time Rin was, but much father along its route, nearer to the mouth. When the flash flood struck, both women were able to swim to the banks and to safety. Rin, young, weak Rin, was not. Her body had floated to shore not far from his brother's group. At least, Sesshomaru noted, the irony not lost on him, even in a time when safety would have saved her, her needs for modesty were met. They had covered her naked body with a spare kimono. He did not reach for Tensaiga, it would have been pointless. Tensaiga did not call for him, and Tensaiga would not bring her soul from the abyss a second time. Rin did not die prematurely. Rin was not taken by the hands of humans or demons. No, it was Nature that took her, a force even he could not battle. The third irony was the greatest. The kimono Rin's corpse was covered with was simple, cotton and red.

_ One of Rin's greatest talents was the ability to never get mud in her hair. It was not uncommon for Sesshomaru to return from a business excursion to find Jaken at his wit's ends and a grinning Rin, covered head to toe in dirt and mud and branches, but for the black, silky strands ending just above her waist. It appeared unnaturally kept in contrast with the rest of her urchin-like appearance. He never asked what mischief she caused when he was away. Jaken would most definitely spin it into a tale where Rin was an unruly_ _child acting up against an attentive guardian. It was likely this was not far from the truth, but Sesshomaru did not particularly care either way. What concerned him was her kimono. Her orange and white checkered kimono was dirty and tattered and beyond repair. He would not have any subordinate of his looking anything less than presentable. Rin would have to part with it. On the day they arrived at the closest human village he sent Jaken to procure a fresh kimono for her. The one he returned with was satisfactory. Simply cut, soft material, cotton most likely, dyed a bright shade of red. Rin did not find it so satisfactory. When presented with it, she shied away, clutching her dirty kimono to her body. " Rin, there is nothing wrong with this garment. Wear it." Sesshomaru was firm in this. _" _Please, Sesshomaru-Sama , don't make Rin wear that!" she cried now a good three feet from him. " It displeases you?" Sesshomaru asked. " Why?" It's...it's the colour. Mommy and Daddy wore that colour when they went away. Please, Sesshomaru-sama..." ...Ah. It was not uncommon for children to associate death with an object or ideal, in this case, red. " Jaken, have a kimono identical to Rin's made as soon as possible," bade Sesshomaru. " Yes, milord." Rin, it turned out, preferred the purples and pinks of the flowers she loved, except for roses. When confronted with this, Rin denied a rose it's species, claiming that it was not a flower, but a weed. " They hurt, and they die easily and they're ugly!" was her reply. " This is a flower," Rin decided, presenting Sesshomaru with a freshly plucked, purple and white...weed. " Rin...this...is a weed." "No, Sesshomaru-sama , it is a flower," Rin stated with confidence only a child could muster. And, staring into those unwavering brown eyes, he was inclined to believe her._

Sesshomaru stared down at the treacherous earth that hid Rin from his view, trying hard to ignore the sobs of the miko paying her last respects. The tombstone was not fancy, a simple rock bearing the only three letters that meant anything to Sesshomaru, and they were aligned in a pattern he would not forget._ R-I-N. _Rin. Sesshomaru turned and left, not waiting for Jaken or Ah-Un to catch up. It was the last time he ever visited her grave.

_ Sesshomaru knew Rin would not be with them forever. Eventually, the needs of a human would catch up to her, and she would leave. She would want a mate, a human mate, who's life span would be comparable to hers. She would want a brood, a family. She would be a good mother, he decided. She would want to a home surrounded by her kind, in a human village. She would want a human life, where she grew old and died years before any demon ever would. It was understandable. He had asked her, once, when she would leave to start a family. She had cocked her head to the side and scrunched up her eyes in thought until she found her answer. With a logic he did not understand, she replied, " Rin does not need to leave to find family, Sesshomaru-sama." The answer was cryptic at best, but it was forged with logic he could not comprehend, and he did not pursue the notion any further. _

Jaken was visibly disappointed when the anniversary of Rin's death rolled around and Sesshomaru showed no sign of noticing or reacting to the significance of such a date. This was not, as Jaken suspected, because Sesshomaru felt that Rin did not merit any acknowledgment on his part, but because he did not feel the need to celebrate the day of her demise. That did not mean that he had forgotten about her, or the respect the dead commanded. To visit her grave would not serve this purpose. Rin would not spend eternity in that place, damp soil in a muddy area where flowers did not grow and the living avoided. Rin was everywhere, ina plane just beyond their sight, in the flowers she loved and in the forests she explored, in the streams she discovered, and in the meadows she frequented. And thus, every year until the day he died, on the first few days of spring, when blossoms unfurled for the first time, he would head North. It really was a wonder, how Jaken failed to see the pattern as it repeated itself over the years. Always he would disappear for a day, find the tree under which Rin had first stumbled, half blind and mute, and found Sesshomaru. Every year, he leaned against that tree from dawn to dusk, and did not move from his place until night told him this was neither unnoticed nor unappreciated. Whatever day it fell on would always be bright and sunny, nothing would bother him, and every once in a while, the scent of winter would pass by.

_ The day Sesshomaru found Rin torn and bleeding body, the scent around her was a familiar one. Death. Much too sweet to be natural, and a tingly iron that upset his delicate nose. It was a scent he had been exposed to far too much in his lifetime. It was, of course, not Rin's natural scent. Her scent was not, like he had expected, reminiscent of the fields of flowers she visited. He was glad for it. He had never vocalized this, but the scent of many flowers were incredibly uncomfortable to his canine nose. Rin's scent, in the midst of this, was a breath of fresh air, quite literally. The closest thing to it in the world was the smell one encounters when they step out of a dwelling filled with familiar scents into a clear winter day. It was barely recognizable, fresh and subtle, dry and clear. Like rain, but gentler, as if it were crystallized. Whenever their group would step into a scene where scents bombarded him, be it a freshly slaughtered village or a marketplace, he stepped closer to Rin focusing purely on her scent. The scent of winter._

It was five years and three months after Rin's death that Sesshomaru first ran into his niece. Or rather_, _she ran into him. It was quite a surprise when a blur of white came tearing towards him at full speed. And after that, his half brother's mate, the miko, in hot pursuit. It was not until the blur raised her head to analyze him and he stared into wide brown eyes, and a handful of baby fangs that he realizes exactly who this child was. " Rin!" The woman chastised. This caught his attention. " You know better than to run off like that!" She finally caught sight of exactly what had brought her child to a halt. " Sesshomaru! I-I..." He ignored her flustered rambling. "...Rin? You named your whelp Rin?" " Sesshomaru...I-we...found out I was pregnant not long after....you know...and we just thought... that Rin would appreciate it." The woman would not meet his eyes. His eyes lowered to meet those of the girl. He wondered vaguely if this girl would see weeds as flowers and flowers as reeds. Would she smell so purely, like the original Rin? Would she shy from the colour red? Would she die, suddenly, or would there be warning? Would Inuyasha ever be able to hold his daughter one last time before she died? He closed his eyes. No. All the similarity between these two girls, the two Rins, ended with their names. No quarter demon-child could ever replace her. He walked away and never saw the imposter child again.

It was a sunny, breezy day, forty-seven years and seven months after Rin died that Sesshomaru came to an abrupt conclusion. Why on this day of all days, so long after the initial statement?_ "Rin does not need to leave to find family, Sesshomaru-sama." _He supposed it was because his attention was not on the here and now, his sights not set on the plane he had walked for so long with Jaken, Ah-Un, and once upon a time, Rin. His eyes were on a girl running beside them, a girl he could not see with his demon eyes. His ears were on the sounds of her laughter as she raced to keep up with the demons' fast paces, sounds he could not hear. His hand bristled as the girl latched onto his hand, a touch he could not feel. Of course. The answer had been here all along. All had to do to find it was to look. Look around. Look at Jaken who was missing a liege, Ah-Un who was missing a rider, himself who was missing Rin...and Rin who even in death did not stray from her family. His grip tightened around the hand of little girl who, by all logic, could not be there, but whose presence was undeniable all the same. Rin did not need to leave them to find a family. She had it there all along. Sesshomaru inhaled the smell of winter that invaded his senses, and squeezed.


End file.
